Wanna See You Strut
by LxIsxJustice
Summary: "Tony was in his natural environment, and Bruce felt like he just stepped into an alternate reality. Tony was finally going to get him to strut." Series of related one-shots with Tony/Bruce and Bruce/Tony. Same Universe as "Bubblegum Saturdays and Whispered Names". M for a reason.
1. Strut Your Stuff

**The reviews have been so flippin' amazing that I've melted into goo, exploded into little pieces, and screamed "alsakskslajsksjak!" more times than is probably healthy. I love you. Love. You. So here is a Tony/Bruce fic to sate your smut thirst with. Like, literally, that's all this is. Humor and copious amounts of smut. This is dedicated to BlueRavenQuill, RavenGhost, and ****Comuto-sama. A HUGE shout to comuto for making me my first piece of fanart! :D You are awesome, luv! By the way, Paradise is an actual club in NY and those drinks are for real.**

**This was written to "Strut" by Adam Lambert. Listen. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Avengers, etc. etc. Whatever, don't care, I just like playing with the characters and giving them back slightly damaged. ;)**

The smell of alcohol permeated the air, twining around the inhabitants of the club like a long-time lover. The heat was nearly unbearable, the sweat-slicked bodies moving, grinding, rubbing—friction. Music pulsed through the collective mass, affecting both the group and the individual as an erotic beat was wont to do.

Tony was in his natural environment, and Bruce felt like he just stepped into an alternate reality.

"Kay, Bruce! Drinks are on me! Welcome…" Tony paused for effect. "To _Paradise_." Grinning, he mock-bowed, allowing the scientist to hesitantly walk past him into the heart of the club, where the inhabitants of Hell would have blushed at the forty-six debaucheries that Bruce could see going on with a hasty glance. His eyes quickly darted back down to the floor, which was virtually made of glitter, blushing up to his ears. He was _not_ cut out for being friends with Tony—much less _living_ with Tony. He'd evaded the club scene thus far (a miracle, really, with how often Tony went out), but all of his genius hadn't been able to save him from his doomed, miserable fate. Never let it be said Tony Stark couldn't persuade, guilt, blackmail, and puppy-eye anyone he wanted.

They were almost immediately spotted by the rest of their party that was already there. The Avengers group made their way over to their teammates. "This place is…wow. Fantastic. I have no words," Clint said in awe, looking around at the pulsing lights and half-dressed women while Natasha alternated between glaring at him and the women he was eying. Steve looked about as flustered as Bruce, his eyes trying to _evade_ said scantily clad women. Thor just looked excited to be here, as he was with every new experience. Bruce sincerely hoped that the naivety kept up for a bit. It would help get them through the evening without incident.

"This…is not a 'dance club', Tony," Steve whined. "No one is dancing! They're just—they're…I don't even know what to call that, uh, rubbing motion." Bruce almost patted him on the back sympathetically. He knew the feeling. It was probably ten times worse for Steve, who hadn't even had a couple decades to get used to this non-dancing.

"_That_, my virgin friend, is called 'grinding', 'slam dancing', and 'booty popping'. And I think you'll find that if you don't question it, we can actually get _rid_ of that pesky virginity at some point in the evening," Tony replied airily, waving a hand through the air. Steve sputtered and flushed, making a couple women turn to eye him hungrily. Bruce sent up a quick prayer to…whoever was in charge of these bizarre situations…that Steve wouldn't be scarred by the end of the evening. Or the next five minutes.

"Alright! Now, since this is several people's first time on the scene, we're gonna buddy up. And if you end up getting separated, well, who gives a shit right? It's a club, there's no rules. So, Nat, you'll be with Steve, and _please_ try to get him laid tonight." Said woman sighed and just nodded, not in the mood to disagree when she was going to be spending all her patience listening to Steve rant. "Clint, you've got Thor—don't let him have more than fifteen drinks, you know how he gets." The archer grinned, clearly implying that the 'no rules' quip was probably going to bite Tony later. "Brucey-boy!" he turned a devilish smirk on the fidgeting doctor. "You're with me."

Bruce could only think one thought. _I'm. Screwed._

"Hop to it!"

The pairs meandered off in different directions, some protesting and some resorting to dragging the other off excitedly. Bruce silently followed Tony towards the bar, trying desperately not to bump into anyone on the way. Tony seemed to just _glide_ through the crowd, while Bruce felt himself jostled to and fro by the masses_. I should have tried harder to say no. I can't do this! I hate sensory overload!_ Feeling himself getting panicked, he swallowed thickly a few times and took calming breaths until Tony stopped at the bar and sat down. He gestured at the bartender. "One Iron Maiden and one Flaming Green Jelly Bean," he yelled over the din of the area.

"Are those even real drink names?" Bruce mumbled, startled when Tony clapped him of the back.

"Sure are! And they work yeah? 'Cause I'm Iron Man, and you're the Hulk, who's green, so yeah, it works," he nodded to himself as his drink was placed in front of him. Bruce just shook his head and eyed his beverage warily.

"I don't think I should. When I drink, the Other Guy takes that as permission to have a field day." He glanced over at Tony, who looked like he was going to pour the drink down his throat.

"Uh, _no_! I did not finally get you out here for you to be a wet towel and not drink anything. Now, a toast, to stupidity and recklessness and Nick Fury's missing eyeball, because God knows his glare is scary enough with _one_." Bruce snorted and held up his glass when Tony did. The metal avenger downed it in one go, and Bruce handed his back to the bartender. "The fuuuuck, man? You can't seriously intend to be sober the entire night!" Tony whined.

"Someone's got to get your sorry ass home when you pass out," Bruce replied, shrugging. He glanced back out to the dance floor before quickly averting his eyes and blushing again._ Focus on that cracked glass over there. Ohgod, I will never be able to look Steve in the eye again without feeling guilty. Poor guy._

Beside him, Tony was laughing. His deep timbres vibrated through Bruce's chest easier than the pounding bass. He shook his head. _Not the time for this._ It was going to be bad enough when Tony went into the touchy-feely mood he got when he was drunk. "Steve is going to either be in a rage or too totally sexually blissed out to care in the morning. I really, _really _hope it's the latter." Bruce chuckled, nodding, and Tony downed his second glass. After a few moments of staring at his glass, Tony abruptly said, "You know what? Fuck it: I'm not getting drunk if you're not." Bruce turned and stared at him in shock. "That would make me a bad friend." Bruce raised an eyebrow. Since when did Tony care what kind of friend he was? He was a great friend to Bruce, but he did that without trying. They'd only been roommates for a few months, and he already felt safer and more appreciated by Tony than he had been with anyone else. So much so that other feelings besides friendship and appreciation had managed to crawl their way under his skin. But Tony didn't usually—"And I also don't want to give Natasha any more blackmail material." Ah, the truth will out. "I'll get sloshed next time. Hey! Let's go dance!"

Before Bruce could so much as process that rapid change in events, Tony had hauled him to his feet and was dragging him through the crowd. The over-stimulus was back in a heartbeat, and he tried to pry his hand from Tony's grip. "No, Tony, I don't want to dance. Let go please," he tried to object calmly as his heart hammered in his chest. Tony just laughed and shot him a grin over his shoulder. "Tony! Seriously, I don't want to dance with some random girl!" He knew what Tony was doing. Tony was all about humor and pranking and joking. And he was not leading Bruce onto the dance floor to push him into some woman. _That_ scared the living daylights out of him.

"Who said anything about girls?" Tony was suddenly at his ear, hands hovering over his waist, breathing the words into his ear and there was absolutely no way to suppress the shiver that went up Bruce's spine. "I know I sure didn't. Don't play dumb, Bruce. We both know your genius probably out-sciences mine. I know. Those little heated looks you send me when we're in the lab, thinking I don't notice? The banter that you show only in front of me?" He leaned back, and now there was only a hint of teasing. "The all-nighters you pull to sit next to me while I drink away my troubles so that I actually make it to bed in one piece? The way you still tiptoe around me, because heaven forbid you inconvenience me or displease me? I see it, Bruce." A finger traced Bruce's collarbone and he bit his lip. "And I seriously don't know what you're so worried about. Like there was _any way_ I could resist your perfectly geeky, awkward, fucking sexy, amazing self."

Bruce thought he was going to pass out, right there, when Tony leaned in exceptionally close, invading every layer of his personal bubble but one, and grinned that devious, _promising_ smile. Promising heat and want and pleasure and _more_. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You need to stop tip-toing and _strut_."

Bruce would never know if Tony planned that, or had somehow developed psychic powers, or was just lucky because he was Tony Stark, but at that exact moment a particular song came on.

_I want to start a revolution  
A type of personal solution  
We all have got our own pollution  
It's all about the execution_

A gaping Bruce suddenly found himself spun and pulled into strong arms, his back settled against Tony's front. It was the most intimate position Bruce had ever been in, and he was glad he wasn't wearing his heart monitor or the wild beeping would have drowned out the music. "T-Tony! The hell—" Words were suddenly rendered completely useless when Tony began to move them.

_You got something to say  
Your hands are tied  
Open your mouth, open it wide  
Let the freedom begin  
Get on the floor, just let it drop  
Don't it feel good, don't it feel hot?  
Feel the fire within_

The beat was steady, sensual, and almost as hypnotic as the feel of Tony against his back. The taller man swayed them in an almost innocent fashion. But Bruce knew that innocence would be dispensed with in seconds if he gave the go-ahead. He bit his lip again, hard enough to draw blood when Tony whispered in his ear.

"Say yes."

He knew it was pointless to fight. He had wanted this—_craved_ this—for the months he had spent getting to know Tony. And Tony was offering. If it didn't last beyond the night, Bruce would cope when the time came. For now, his mind was saying 'Fuck it!' and his body was saying something along similar lines, so he relaxed his rigid posture and melded to Tony's chest. He felt a sigh and a grin against his hair, and the touch that could nearly be described as platonic was quite suddenly _not._

_I wanna see you strut (strut, strut)  
C'mon walk for me  
Strut (strut, strut)  
How you wanna be_

Their hips moved in sync with each other, the beat of the music only fueling the eroticism of the friction and the heat of the room. Tony's hands rested on Bruce's waist possessively, and was grinding into him as the lights flickered and flashed and the speakers shuddered. They weren't the only things that shuddered when Tony leaned in to press an open-mouth kiss to Bruce's neck. The shorter male rolled his hips in response, earning a low growl of need from Tony. The kiss became a bite, a wicked tongue darting out to soothe the mark, and the scientist moaned when Tony continued with the bruises that screamed _mine_. He'd have to return the favor later.

_Everybody's looking for some love  
But they don't know  
How to let it all hang out  
And that's why they're solo (solo, solo)  
Don't wanna be solo (solo, solo)  
Don't wanna be solo_

Bruce suddenly turned in Tony's arms, pressing them front to front, and _god _Tony's eyes. They were almost black with desire and wanting and they were entirely focused on him. He fought the urge to blush, replacing it with a light smirk when he rolled their hips together again. Seeing how clearly affected Tony was…it was a heady experience. Enough to keep the fear at bay, that he would lose it any moment, and enough to make him want more, always more, consequences and potential heartbreak be damned. The wish was granted almost immediately when Tony's hand snuck between them and palmed him through the overly-expensive pants Tony had insisted on him wearing. "Oh god," he moaned, his head falling back. Tony took complete advantage and immediately waged another assault on his neck.

_We're a complicated nation  
And now we're in a situation  
Let's take a make-believe vacation  
And get yourself some validation_

"Anything, Bruce. I will do absolutely anything. Tell me what you want," Tony murmured against his collarbone. Bruce jolted and moaned again at the next stroke. He suddenly couldn't remember where he was, and the movement of their hips was just too much, too good, too—

"You. I want you." He didn't realize he said it for a moment, because that half-strangled, pleading voice didn't sound like his, but it was. "Need—ah!" he suddenly felt a wall at his back, and _how the hell did Tony manage to get us out of the crowd?_ His mouth was being devoured, their lips drinking and exploring instantly. He could feel the buttons of his shirt being undone, and it gave him momentary clarity. He broke the kiss—an entirely too cursory taste of Tony—to say, "Wait, wait, wait! Not _here_, Tony! The others—"

"Are too busy to give a fuck. Like everyone else." Tony continued on the shirt until it hung open and his mouth descended on Bruce's chest. The yelp he gave was undignified, but Bruce was already lost again. There was no argument worth missing this. Hands slid down his sides and a knee slid between his legs, and there was no coherent thought but _more. _When Tony came back up to nip at his lower lip and slide his tongue into Bruce's mouth, Bruce thought nothing could be better than feeling Tony's lips on his. In a way, he was right, because kissing Tony was quickly becoming his favorite pastime. And in others, he was entirely, laughably wrong.

_You got something to say  
Your hands are tied  
Open your mouth, open it wide  
Let the freedom begin  
Get on the floor, just let it drive  
Don't it feel good, don't it feel hot?  
Feel the fire within_

No one, absolutely _no one_, had ever had Tony Stark on his knees before. If anyone had been watching, they might have had to do a double take, just to make sure they weren't hallucinating from a laced drink. But Bruce, Tony had long decided, was special. He'd meant it when he'd said anything. Bruce was not a one-night stand, or a fuck toy, or someone disposable. Bruce was the exact _opposite_ of those things. Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, was ready for _matrimony_, if that's what Bruce wanted. And as soon as this was over, Tony was taking Bruce home and _worshipping _him. He was going to prove with every touch and movement that Bruce was _it_. Tony was _done_. He wasn't looking anymore. Taken, whipped, they could call it whatever they wanted, but Tony had never solved such an easy equation in his life. Tony plus Bruce equals everything. But at that moment, Bruce was entirely too sexy. He was writhing and moaning and on the brink of ecstasy as Tony hummed in the back of his throat and took him deeper. Just the sound of the debauched noises coming from the normally soft-spoken scientist was enough to make Tony ache more than he ever had before. One of his hands stroked himself while the other reached up to grasp one of Bruce's hands, giving him something to cling to because Bruce was clearly doing his damnedest not to thread them in Tony's hair and just take what he wanted, and Tony wouldn't really _mind _that, but it was just more proof of how much Bruce cared. He knows that if Bruce were actually coherent at the moment, he'd be blushing and trying to reciprocate because Bruce always had been too selfless for his own good. Hence, rendering the good doctor incapable of doing anything but accepting the love and attention he deserves.

_I'll be your mirror  
Darling, let your hair down  
Show me what you're working with and let me see you  
Strut (strut, strut), strut (strut, strut)  
How you wanna be_

The next sound—almost a scream, but not quite there yet—almost makes him lose it. Bruce is just Too. Fucking. Sexy. And the bastard doesn't even know it! If Tony has anything to say about it (and really, since when has Tony Stark _not_ had a say) he's going to spend every day proving just how much Bruce turns him on with his over-analyzing brain, incredible personality, and delicious body.

He has a feeling he's going to enjoy proving that particular theory.

_Everybody's lookin' for some love  
But they don't know  
How to let it all hang out  
And that's why they're solo (solo, solo)  
Don't wanna be solo (solo, solo)  
Don't wanna be solo_

He redoubled his efforts, only now realizing just how much control Bruce has over himself, even when he doesn't have control over himself. '_Cause that makes sense._ He thought snidely. Finally, with a flick of his tongue and a squeeze from his hand to Bruce's, the frantic tension broke, and Bruce came with a cry of his name and _goddamn_, if that wasn't the most erotic his name had ever sounded.

He was thrown over the edge only seconds after, the release better than any he'd had before. And he knows, even as he's borne up on the waves of ecstasy and slammed back onto the shore, that it's only going to get better from here. And he only has one thought. _I'm. Screwed._ It's a very pleasant thought.

_Strut for me and show me what you're working with  
Strut for me and show me what you're working with_

Mornings after have always been awkward for Tony, because well, he usually just let JARVIS or Pepper take out the trash. Today there is no trash to take out. Yet this one isn't awkward in the slightest. That could have something to do with the fact that they technically haven't _stopped_, so this is really just a continuation of the night before. But it could also have to do with the fact that Bruce is just amazing like that, and Tony's not nursing a hangover for once, and the little chuckle Bruce gives when they wake up sometime in the late afternoon is just too damn adorable to feel awkward.

"Your hair looks like a cockatoo hairdresser gave you his signature cut," Bruce says sleepily and grins by way of a good morning-afternoon. Tony smirks and sidles closer. Not that there's much room between them in the first place.

"And yours looks like it always does—sex hair."

Bruce snorts. "You'd be the first to call it that. Usually I just get 'messy' or, if I'm lucky, 'perpetually tousled'."

"Glad no one else beat me to it. I'd have to kill them," he rejoins, and for a few minutes, they just lay there in silence that doesn't have the slightest hint of awkwardness, and stare at each other. Their eyes don't see into their souls or anything like that. At least not _yet_, but they both know it's only a matter of time.

"Fuck, you're going to watch me grow old, aren't you." It's not really a question. "You're going to help me get over my drinking problem and I'm going to start doing incredibly mushy things like cooking dinner and remembering anniversaries, aren't I. I'm. Screwed."

Bruce looks down at their twined hands resting on the pillow and he smiles, amused. "Those are bad things?"

"Pfft, duh! Can you imagine what kinds of Hell are going to be let loose the first time Legolas or the Capsicle see me looking through wedding magazines, or Nat catches me on the couch because you've gotten pissy about something? Oh god, I don't even want to _know_ what Thor would say! Probably an innuendo that I can't snark about because for one, he doesn't even know it's an innuendo, and second he wouldn't get my witty comment either—"

Bruce laughs; the sound warm and inviting. "Tony, we're falling in love, not losing our minds or dignity."

"Aren't those synonymous?"

The scientist hums and kisses Tony for a moment before he shrugs. "Perhaps a little. You got me to strut last night, didn't you?"

"I don't think either of us were really strutting. It was more like tripping and rolling around on the ground for a bit. To be fair though, that was a hell of a lot more fun than strutting. It will be happening again…soon. I'm thinking about buying my own night-club."

Bruce sighs. "I'm screwed aren't I?"

"That's an offer, right?"

A sexually blissed out Steve walked by their room a few minutes later, and couldn't hear a single noise over the pleasant humming of the now perfectly balanced universe. Life was good.

**Read and Review! Ohgodohgod –runs and hides- I did not post this, nope, not me! o/o**


	2. Simple Gestures

**And now, by popular demand, I give you…chapter two! Haha, it seems that my readers want me to continue some of my stories. I won't do all of them, and the ones I do will probably only have one other chapter, but I'll do my best. This chapter has an entirely different feel than the first, because it's almost like its own one-shot, just related to "Wanna See You Strut". I wanted Bruce to return the favor of reassurance, and show how much he's grown in his and Tony's relationship. He's still Bruce, just with some new perspective on how much he's loved. I'm really sorry this part doesn't have smut (it just didn't work right with how it was set up) but I have a few fics coming soon that will have more smut than you know what to do with. Ovaries shall explode, promise. Dedicated to Lisa (she didn't sign in, so I don't know her username), JayNinjaOfLightning15, and anko2468; you are amazing, darlings! The first part was written to "Out of My League" by Stephen Speaks. The second part was written to "Loving You Is Easy" by Chris August. Oh my Elton, those songs are so cute for them!**

It was always the simple gestures that held the greatest significance.

Bruce had never been one for the big, or loud, or grand. The first two usually made him Hulk Out, and the third made him blush and fidget and stammer. Doing any of those things just made the press that much more interested in his and Tony's relationship. Since the club a month ago, he had come to realize just how obvious he'd probably been, despite his efforts to keep his feelings a secret. And also that people hadn't been 'too busy to give a fuck' as Tony had said.

The first time Tony took him out to a '_real_ dinner, Bruce. Not shawarma, or Denny's, or a thai place," he'd known the evening was not going to go well.

He had tried to explain that the reason he insisted on going to the simple kinds of places were one, because people didn't recognize him there, and he wouldn't ruin Tony's reputation, and two, because he _liked_ those places. Mostly because of the first reason, but food had always been food to him. He didn't need a fifty dollar steak or a bottle of fine champagne. Tony was so much more than he ever could have hoped for, flaws and all, so he never noticed what he was eating anyways. Tony had laughed and called him 'too fuckin' adorable', and ignored his pleas altogether.

He'd worn a suit that made him feel like he was suffocating, and sat amongst people that he would swear were staring at him and Tony and whispering, and eaten some sort of meat that didn't cost fifty dollars, but three _hundred_, and drank the smooth champagne that didn't want to go down because he was exceedingly nervous and _ohgod _people _were_ staring.

The paparazzi descended like hounds. Only, most hounds would have eaten his steak and left him alone. These hounds wanted _fresh_ kill.

"Mr. Stark, what is the nature of your and Dr. Banner's relationship?"

"Mr. Stark, are you aware that Dr. Banner has a destructive alter-ego?"

"Mr. Stark, is it wise to bring an unstable creature into a dining environ—"

"Can you describe the events of club _Paradise_—"

"What is—"

Bruce snapped. Luckily it wasn't in the way anyone (or himself) expected. He barely had a hold on the Other Guy, who roared furiously in his head, but he still had a grip. He stood, knocking over his chair in the process, and gave Tony a desperate look, begging forgiveness, before he ran. He could feel the eyes on the back of his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, almost knocking over a waiter. Stammering an apology, he looked back once, seeing Tony's absolutely _horrified _face, mirrored by the reporters, and fled the room.

He ran, heart pounding and his ears ringing, all the way back to Stark Tower, though it was twelve blocks away, and immediately stumbled to the Green Room, where he finally let go and shredded everything in the room within seconds. He was in there for two hours before he came back to himself.

When he had shrunk down, his foggy mind came back to him, and he glanced around to take in the destruction—his latest failure—before his eyes widened in terror. Tony lay on the ground nearby, in his Iron Man suit that was worse for wear, looking at him. "Oh god," Bruce sobbed, crawling over to Tony, for once not caring about his nakedness, and pressed his forehead to Tony's arc reactor, weeping uncontrollably and apologizing over and over again.

"Bruce, stop."

"I'm so sorry," he said again, like a mantra, pleading with his lover to _please, forgive me, I don't _want _you to, but I _need _you to, why are you such an _idiot_?_

"Stop," Tony said. He had to say it at least four more times before Bruce calmed enough to listen. "Bruce, look at me." He turned the other's face to him when Bruce tried to keep his eyes downcast. "This one was _all _on me. Got it? _All _of it. If I wasn't so goddamn stupid, I wouldn't have done that to you."

"N-No, it was—"

"Bruce, shut _up_! It is my fault, and don't say it's not. You told me you weren't comfortable with all that fancy shit and I…" he sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes wearily before continuing. "Bruce, I just…I wanted to prove how much I care, okay? Since the club…well, just kind of jumping you probably wasn't the best thing to do. I didn't—I guess I just thought you were being stubborn or modest or something. Just proves what a lousy partner I am that I didn't listen to you." He laughed self-deprecatingly. Bruce tried to say something, but he was silenced when Tony leaned up to kiss him softly. When he pulled back, Tony smiled and traced the tired shadows under Bruce's eyes. "Not done apologizing yet. I'm really sorry, Bruce. I promise I'm not hurt; I've pretty much Hulk-proofed my suit by now. And if you're not too pissed at me, I'd really like to try again."

"Tony—"

"No, no, not the fancy-schmancy shit. I just meant the listening. Which…now that I think about it, I'm screwing up again aren't I, by not letting you talk?" He frowned at himself, which made Bruce dissolve into helpless laughter. They kissed, again and again, their tongues dancing and their laughter making it difficult to keep their mouths together.

"All I was going to say to that was that the 'jumping' me wouldn't have worked if I hadn't let it. And I know you meant well with the dinner." He grinned, feeling much more at ease with Tony here. "The Other Guy just doesn't have table manners like I do. It's like that saying, 'This is why we can't have nice things'." He laughed; the sound rumbling in his chest. Tony waggled his eyebrows and gestured to the door.

"I think we can have _very_ nice things."

Eventually they made their way out of the Green Room, Tony's suit removed as they walked, and into the bedroom. No one could say that Tony didn't listen when it came to his lover's sounds of rapture.

xXx

Tony viewed simplicity as a foreign language.

That much was clear in the way he dressed, or lived, or dined, or spoke and gestured. But, Tony was also ankles over arse in love with Bruce Banner who _breathed _simplicity. At least, in most ways. Emotionally and mentally, he was about as simple as a woman menstruating. Which is to say, not simple at all. That was probably a bad comparison, since Bruce didn't cry often, or eat vast amounts of chocolate, or watch chick-flicks, or bleed out of—

Yeah, that was probably a bad comparison.

But, the idea was the same. Bruce Banner wasn't simple, but he_ lived_ simply. It was something Tony wanted to learn, and he was trying his best. So they ate at easy-going restaurants—although Bruce was an awesome cook—because half the time they were so tired from being in the lab all day, or debating a theory, or fighting crime, or having sex, that they didn't care what they ate anyways. _Making love_ his mind whispered to him. _It's not just sex, not what you do with him._ He grinned, his eyes straying to his lover's back, turned to him as he changed levels of acidity in his experiment, and he nodded to himself. _It's kind of a nice change_, he mused, _not having to go all out all the time to prove myself._ Not that he didn't still try. He'd done some pretty elaborate gestures, only within the context of them or close friends, and they were all well-received—_very_ well-received—by Bruce. But, for reasons Tony didn't really fathom, things like just reading in silence together with their hands intertwined, or Tony kissing him in front of the team, or notes left on the counter letting Bruce know he'd be back in a bit, or giving him a shoulder rub when he got tense, seemed to draw Bruce further and further out of his shell than the grander things did.

He didn't _understand _why Bruce loved those things so much. So he did what Tony did best and brought it up awkwardly.

"Hey, I have a question."

Bruce startled for a moment, drawn out of his concentration, before turning to face Tony. He waited for Tony's question—usually he just asked, instead of preluding it, so it must be serious—but the silence continued. "And the question is…?" he prompted, a bit unnerved by Tony's fidgeting. Tony was always in motion, but every movement had purpose. Fidgeting was a sure sign of either nervousness or an imminent apology. Bruce couldn't think of anything Tony had done to warrant the latter, so it must be the first.

"Have you ever thought we'd be better off as just friends?"

Bruce's felt his heart stop.

"'Cause I mean, it would probably easier and stuff, right?"

_No, no, no! It would not be easier, it would be Hell, why are you asking me that?_ Bruce thought frantically, trying to calm the pounding of his heart and the unpleasant sensation of his stomach lurching. "I—no, I haven't. It's never really crossed my mind. Have…do you think we'd be better as friends?"

Tony's eyes went wide and he immediately shook his head. "No!" he said a little too loudly. "No, fuck no! I just—" he suddenly laughed, confusing Bruce who was trying not to faint from relief. "I am _really _bad at these kinds of conversations. Did you think I was going to break up with you?"

Bruce looked down at his hands, blushing and nodded minutely. It wasn't an entirely implausible thought. Tony was a free spirit, and despite their words the morning after they became a couple, he hadn't really believed them until recently. But Tony had shown him again and again how much he loved him. It was…it was amazing to him just how much Tony cared. His fears had calmed and he found himself doing things he never thought he would. He smiled to himself. _Like strutting._ Tony was drawing out the life in Bruce he hadn't thought he deserved, and_ god _he loved him for it.

"Heh, sorry. That…wasn't what I was going for at all. What I was trying to ask was 'Why do you stick around?'"

Bruce's head shot up at that. Why did he _stick around_? _What the hell?_ "Uh…Tony, not to sound like an idiot, but can you explain that question?"

Sighing and running a hand through his hair agitatedly, Tony said, "Well, just…I mean, it's not like I'm bringing much to the table, 'cause you don't really like the expensive dinners and going out on the town and stuff. I don't really see the appeal." He shrugged.

_Ah, I see._

Tony had never really had someone who didn't want the money or the fame that came with the Stark name. It confused him that someone could genuinely want Tony the _person_, not Tony Stark the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist. Bruce's lack of interest in those things was making Tony think Bruce would get bored quickly. He almost snorted. _As if._

"Now who's tip-toing?" he asked teasingly.

"Wha—?"

"Tony," he said softly as he stood up and walked over to his lover. "I know it's a hard concept for you to grasp, but I'm kind of crazy about you. I think I've made that pretty clear, though if I haven't, I can translate into Tony if you want. I'm guessing that you've been hung up on wondering why I like simplicity over the extravagant?" He laughed when Tony looked away and muttered 'mind reader'.

"That's a really easy one to explain. See this?" He pointed to the arc reactor glowing under Tony's shirt. "The energy in this is like my love for you. It's self-sustaining, and it glows. Like when we're reading together. It's been really peaceful to have someone to sit with. I've been away from people for so long that I sort of forgot what it was like to have another person in the room, just sitting. Oh, or when you started kissing me in front of the others. I was…I was awed that you weren't embarrassed to be with me. It—it became real to me then. That you really did love me." He smiled gently, leaning to kiss a gaping Tony. "And those notes on the counter remind me of that. That you aren't going to just up and leave without making sure I've packed and am coming with you." He suddenly groaned, chuckling and shaking his head. "And I don't think anyone can give as good a backrub as you. Your hands…" he fluttered his fingers and grinned. "Are magic. But you already knew that. You're more than the sum of your parts, Tony. To me, you could be millions of dollars in debt, not have a single piece of lab equipment to your name, and be as clueless as Thor and I'd still love you more than Carbon loves Oxygen."

He leaned up to kiss Tony, and the taller man grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back against the side of the lab table. _What have I done to deserve him?_ Tony wondered, before deciding he didn't need to worry. Just needed to accept that the scientist loved him for him. The experiment Bruce had been working on was long forgotten. Their tongues glided and they both moaned when their bodies pressed together. Bruce broke away with a gasp. "And have I mentioned that the sex is really, really good?" Tony growled at the sultry tone in the doctor's voice that would have been so out of character a couple months ago. He smirked. _I must be a good influence._ Bruce proved that when he hopped onto the table and let Tony move to stand between his legs_. Oh fuck yeah, lab sex!_ Tony's brain crowed happily. But he had something to say first. He leaned back from Bruce's delicious, tempting mouth to lean his forehead against Bruce's. "Thank you. You're incredible, you know that?"

Bruce hummed and ran his hand through Tony's hair. "I'd have to be, if _you're_ with me," he said simply.

This time, when Steve walked by to ask about some piece of technology or another, there was no way he _couldn't_ hear what was going on. He decided he could blame Tony's corrupting schemes when he stopped, turned back around, and walked out without so much as a blush.

_Finis_

**Read and Review! Aw, our Steve's all grown up! ;)**


	3. Finger Promises and Changing Nothing

**-sigh- That awkward moment when no one reviews your story, and you're very, very sad, only to realize that the REASON no one has reviewed, is because the damn site didn't even POST it when you hit submit! Oh well. Anyways, I'm so, so sorry that it looks like I haven't posted in a while. I actually did, it just didn't go through. So here it is...again. This chapter takes place a little bit before "Bubblegum Saturdays and Whispered Names". I wanted to show conflict between Tony and Bruce, as well as Bruce finally letting go of the past. I thought that BSaWN needed precedent for why they both have grown in their relationship. This is part of that. Like I said, I will also be posting the lab sex mentioned in the second chapter, and a few other goodies in this universe. Let me know if there is anything in particular you want to see. Sooo, this chapter is dedicated to TheAPrincess, InkedFingertips (aka, my new stalker), xGentleSmiles, and SoftlySpokenHeart. OHMYGOD LET ME LOVE YOU ALL! Sooo update on health: I'm out of the hospital and back home. :D I'm a happy, happy girl. Have some angst that turns into fluff on a silver platter.**

**This was written to "Change Nothing" by Jessica Sanchez. You know that meme with "Lord have mercy"? Yup, that's this song. Lurves.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Especially not a certain group of Avengers 'things'. ...Get your minds out of the gutter people. I meant all the Avengers internet things! Reblog all the things my loves!**

Tony really should have seen this coming.

_Maybe I need to replace 'genius' in 'genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist' with something more self-deprecating. _He thought, angrily hurling the screwdriver he'd been working on against the far wall. It was a testament to how far away he was from a true Sonic Screwdriver that it shattered easily with the small force he'd put into the throw. Fuck it, becoming a Time Lord wannabe could wait.

He stormed out of the lab to stomp upstairs to the sight he knew would greet him once he got there. Betty Ross sat close—_far, far too close_—to Bruce on the black sofa in the main living room, talking to him. _More like trying to persuade him._ The others were attempting to stay out of the way, even though it was lunch time, quietly rummaging through the fridge. Or, everyone but Thor was quiet. Thor's absolute quietest still generally sounded like a room full of people. And every single one of them was eavesdropping on the conversation taking place in the other room.

"Little bitch comes in here like she fucking owns the place," Clint muttered, and Tony almost ran forward to embrace him. Natasha, who stood spreading mustard on a piece of bread—perhaps one day, Tony would have the balls to make some sort of snide comment about 'making a sammich', but today was not that day—didn't say anything, but glared in Betty's general direction. Steve frowned when he saw Tony walk in, and patted him sympathetically on the shoulder while Thor pressed his lips together to prevent himself from saying anything untoward, since it would be heard by everyone…including Betty.

"—and I just don't see why you can't come live with me now that everything has calmed down," said woman beseeched her former lover. It was over half a year since Loki had tried to take over the world, and the Avengers were brought to the public's attention. Eight months, and only now did Betty Ross, Bruce's ex-girlfriend and daughter of Bruce's longest standing tormentor, come to collect what she had deemed as hers. Tony snorted. _As if._ He wasn't a generous person, by any stretch of the imagination, and he had finally gotten what he wanted. _Needed_, his mind reminded him. And he couldn't tell himself otherwise. He needed Bruce like he needed air. Like protons need electrons. And Betty Ross could go to hell if she thought she could put her paws on his things. Namely the couch. But once it got past _things_ and she went for his _lover_…he would send her to Hell himself.

"—really important reason that I can't, Betty. This goes beyond your father now. I have…friends and a team here and responsibilities and a really great lab—"

Inhaling deeply, he used the breathing exercises he watched Bruce do often to keep his anger at a manageable level. Now would not be a good time to call his Iron Man suit and blast Bruce's ex from the top of the tower. He nodded firmly, letting himself look at the man she focused her attention on. Bruce was fidgeting more than usual, his hands wringing themselves, but his eyes stayed trained on hers. Tony couldn't tell if this was good or bad. Bruce didn't look him in the eye for more than a few seconds until two months after they started their relationship. He tried to remind himself that Bruce had known Betty for a long time, and so of course he would look her in the eye. Not because he felt more comfortable with her or was going to leave Tony or anything like that.

The only time Bruce's eyes left hers was to look once towards Tony. Betty seemed oblivious to their audience, but Bruce had always known the feeling of eyes on him. He glanced over at Tony, before his eyes darted away nervously. Tony felt a spike of anger rise in him. He didn't know if it was directed at Bruce or Betty or himself, but it wasn't pleasant and anger had _always_ made him do stupid things.

He sauntered towards the other room, brushing off Steve who tried to grab his arm, and stood before the pair on his couch. "Miss Ross," he drawled lazily, as if addressing her was a barely concealed annoyance (which it was). "I'm afraid I'm going to have to pull Bruce away for a bit. It's sort of tradition on Wednesday afternoons for the Avengers to have lunch together." _Not a lie._ "I can call Miss Potts to escort you to the door. Consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday, so if you'd like to come back next week, you're welcome to." _Ha, as if I'm letting you back in, bitch._ He gave a smile that was more of a grimace and looked to Bruce, who had his head down and a blush staining his cheeks. A small part of Tony warned him to stop now, but he squished that voice as quickly as it started protesting. "And Bruce promised to help me get some things up," he paused for that to settle in. "You know, shelves and stuff in the lab." He restrained his grin when Bruce's blush went deeper and made a small noise of distress.

There was momentary quiet before Betty made a much louder sound of distress. More like a screech. _Smart cookie, she caught the innuendo_. "_Him! He's_ the 'important reason' you can't come back with me?"

And just like that, everyone in the room went silent. Like the calm before the storm, as Betty studied Bruce's downcast face and his jittery hands. Tony immediately had an inkling of a feeling he might have just made a mistake.

"I—I don't—I..." Bruce stammered, before ending in a quiet murmur. "Yes. He…Tony is the reason. More than reason enough." His words sent a shiver up Tony's spine. This time, the spike of anger that went through him was _definitely_ at himself. God, was he so fucked up that he thought Bruce would just walk away? The insecurity that plagued him rushed to greet him with open arms. He deliberately pushed it back down. Betty was far better suited, though it galled him to admit it, but that wasn't how Bruce worked. Tony liked to joke and threw words around like 'mating for life', but it wasn't until now that he realized _just how true_ that was for Bruce. His chest clenched painfully at the resigned look on Bruce's face. "Look Betty, you're amazing and wonderful, and I _did_ love you once, but we both know how much you…hate the Other Guy. And…and your fear of him not only makes him angry, it makes it harder for _me_ to accept him—" he was cut off.

"That's because you _shouldn't_ accept him! You shouldn't have to!" she half-shouted, and Tony nearly rushed forward to push her away when Bruce winced. "I have a great research team at my labs; you could come back and we can work on a cure together. Isn't that what you want?"

Tony hated silence. He liked any kind of noise: the thrumming of machines, the ebb and flow of voices in the background, the television or music playing quietly. But silence was dangerous, because it pushed every abhorrent and frightening thought to the forefront of his mind. And right now, in this tense silence, his mind pulsed and his heart ached with the same question. _Isn't that what you want?_ He had worked _so hard_ to make Bruce see how treasured he was, how much Tony adored and admired him and how _Ican'tlivewithoutyou_. Tony was long past obsession, past love, and edging into the realm of worshipping the ground Bruce walked on. The physicist knew him like none other; could good naturedly jest with him without making Tony feel inadequate, could tell when Tony went into various moods, could soothe the constant rush of thoughts in his head. He was everything to Tony, and the Hulk was a part of that. He told Bruce what Hulk did when they were in various battles, and the Hulk's progress in the way of self-control never failed to make Bruce smile hopefully. He and the Big Guy had conversations and Hulk had told him how good he was for Bruce. _"Tiny Tin Man make Bruce happy. Bruce happy make Hulk happy." _And damn, if that wasn't the giant green rage monster's blessing, then he didn't know what was. He had crowed for a week about being right when he said Hulk was like Bruce's guardian. Bruce had grinned for that entire time and kissed him at every turn. The joy that was in his eyes as he realized that perhaps, just maybe, he didn't have to suppress Hulk, or destroy himself, or stay away from people anymore…

That joy could be snuffed out with Betty's words. _Isn't that what you want?_

"Not…not anymore."

Betty sucked in a breath the same time Tony's rushed out. Bruce glanced up to him, then towards the rest of the team, standing awkwardly in the kitchen, all pretense of making lunch abandoned. "I-I don't…_want _to get rid of Hulk anymore. He saved Tony, and he's saved me more times than I can count. He…helps now." Tony could see him gain confidence in his words. "He knows he's part of the team, and that he can count on Steve to give him clear direction when he would be otherwise smashing everything in sight, he knows Thor will spar with him without cowering in fear. Natasha will not hesitate to confront him and talk him down when he gets too wild, Clint will bring him Burger King if I get pissed because I'm hungry, and Fury tolerates him, which is more than most normal humans can say." He smiled slightly as he looked at each member in turn, and they all grinned at the mention of Fury. He hesitantly looked over to Tony, who's heart raced at the calm, serene devotion and the fiery, all-consuming love that mixed in Bruce's expression. He tried to look away, but Bruce's even gaze held him there. _He's so beautiful…_

"And that's all amazing, and weirdly wonderful, just like you Betty, but Tony…Tony does all these things and more. He makes sure I know my worth, as more than my value as a scientist or a 'giant green rage monster'. He knows me inside and out and can make me laugh harder than I thought I was capable of anymore. Tony was never afraid of the Hulk, even when he had reason to be. He loves me even though I'm drawn in and a complete nerd, and I know…that he's always going to stick with me. Betty," he looked back to her, and there was sadness, but firm resolution in his face. "That is more than you are capable of giving me, and I will never blame you for it, because I can't give _you_ what you need. I wish I could Betty, you know that. But…Tony is who_ I_ need, and I like to think that the feeling is mutual." He smiled softly at his lover for a moment before abruptly standing and helping a stunned Betty to her feet. "If…if you don't hate me, I'd like to send you an email with all the research I've complied on Hulk. Maybe it will make sense when you see it. I know I didn't believe it at first." He shrugged self-deprecatingly, and guided her towards the door. "But maybe it would be a good idea if we leave it at this. I don't think—" he cut himself off, and Tony knew he was holding onto his last vestiges of control so that he could say goodbye to Betty.

When they reached it, Tony watched with no jealousy as Bruce pulled his ex into a hug. If anyone ever asked if he was touched at Bruce's gentle words to someone who had wounded him when she left, Tony would deny it vehemently. He had a reputation after all. But in the privacy of his own body, he could feel his heart swelling with affection and pride for his lover. Bruce was truly miles ahead of him, regardless if he realized it or not. "I'm really sorry, Betty. If I could have given you the happiness you more than deserve, I would have." He could see her eyes watering, and he hoped maybe she would understand. "Make a promise?" he asked, raising his index finger in a gesture that was long established between them, and lost on almost everyone in the room. The tears in her eyes started to overflow and she hitched a sob before nodding and linking her finger with his and leaned her forehead against his chest, muffling her crying. "Solemnly swear you'll find someone who loves you more than anyone in this world or any other. My terms are that he would give his life for yours in a heartbeat, he gives you the family you always wanted, and that he _geeks out_ over your love of cell theory," he said quietly, with a small chuckle.

Betty sniffled for a moment before she held up her other index finger to connect with his. The Avengers watched their ritual, started right after Bruce transformed for the first time. And Bruce was glad they were there. He was more than glad that Tony was there. He was leaving everything of a past life behind, and about ten seconds after Betty left, he was going to need Tony to hold him for a few minutes. Or days. He had absolute faith that Tony would. He smiled and concentrated on breathing in and out for a moment before Betty spoke.

"Solemnly swear you'll be happy no matter where you end up. My terms are that if it is a place that brings you happiness, it is _really _warm and there is a surplus of yoga mats in your house. If it is a job, it has to be science-y and something that won't work you to death. If it is a person…" she looked over at Tony with a mixture of accusation, acceptance, and pleading. "Then that person _has_ to be intellectually matched, _has_ to accept every part of you, and _has_ to value and love you above himself. If he can't do that, I won't forgive him. He won't like me when I'm angry."

Bruce laughed, nodding and kissing her knuckles. "I solemnly swear," they both said together, before breaking the links of their fingers and Bruce stepped away. Betty wiped her eyes and turned towards the door, breathing in heavily and exhaling on a shaky smile when she opened it. "Be happy, Bruce."

She shut the door, and he half-extended a hand towards the door. "I will be Bets. Thank you." The sound of his steady breathing was the only sound for a little while.

"Tony…" he whispered finally, the first notes of panic and heartache cracking in his voice. He immediately felt arms wrap around him and draw him into the familiar smell of Tony's cologne and spicy lab chemicals and metal. The soft hum of the arc reactor soothed the rapid overtaking of emotions and he could vaguely hear Tony telling the others to let them be until JARVIS informed them otherwise.

They disappeared into the Green Room, and he let the rage and anguish flow for a few hours.

xXx

They sat on their bed, against the headboard with Bruce's head against the juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder. Bruce didn't think he would ever re-hydrate after the waterworks that he didn't have the heart to be embarrassed about. "Thank you," he rasped, voice still hoarse from the Hulk's angry roars in the Green Room. Tony's hand came up across his chest to brush at the dried tear tracks on the scientist's face.

"Nothing to thank. Should've left well-enough alone; I should know you can handle yourself," Tony sighed, annoyed at himself. This was his fault, and _fuck_ he hoped that he never had to experience Bruce that upset ever again. Just thinking about it made his heart hurt more than the shrapnel did.

"No, it was good you pushed it. She…wouldn't have given up if she didn't hear it from me. And that's a total coward's answer…_I _wouldn't have given up if I didn't tell _myself_." He laughed tiredly for a moment. "Tony, for geniuses, we can be _really_ stupid. It sounds weird, but the fact that you got upset when she got here made me think 'What if the situation was reversed?' I know how much you love me, I guess I just didn't know how irrevocably mutual the feeling is." Tony smiled into Bruce's curls. "Seeing Betty…she matters a lot to me. And I looked at you, and it was like not seeing a hurricane coming at you. It shocked me, how little she mattered compared to you. All I could think was 'how did I not notice this?'" Tony laughed now, leaning down to press their lips together for a few moments. "I love you," Bruce murmured against his lips. Tony pulled back, smiling softly.

"I love you, too. Not gonna let girl cooties get in my way." He hesitated for a moment. "What if you could change it? If you could alter how things went, what would you change?"

Bruce looked at their twined hands somberly for a moment. "Does the outcome always lead to us?"

"Not if you believe in Schrodinger's Cat."

"Then…" Bruce brought his hand up to draw Tony back down for another kiss. He closed his eyes and linked their fingers—all of them—together. "I would change nothing."

**Read and Review! I love you all! Btw, the finger promise thing? Completely comic book canon. Saddest scene in the history of the world. My feels just kind of die everytime I read it. And THIS is why I do not like canon. Bruce deserves every happy ending in every universe (parallel or not)!**


	4. A Darkened Hallelujah

**Hey my amazing readers! I'm so, so happy about being out of the hospital that I needed to update again like, right away. This chapter is more angst…cause apparently I write angst when I'm happy? -shrugs- Anyways, this chapter takes place sometime after the second chapter (Simple Gestures) but before the third (Finger Promises and Changing Nothing). It gives background to references in "Bubblegum Saturdays and Whispered Names", because in that fic, Tony describes his need for reassurance from Bruce as something that has happened before. This chapter is what he's referring to, because I'm obsessive like that, and everything must be connected. X3 This one describes one of Tony and Bruce's fights in the beginnings of their relationship. My goal with this one was to show Tony's crippling humanness. We've seen Bruce work through some of his issues in these chapters, now it's Tony's turn at bat. So their relationship is still fairly new, and when you get two people together who are as wounded and messy as Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, more than just badly mixed lab chemicals explode. So, this is a dive into how Tony pushes people away, and how Bruce combats both his own and Tony's self-loathing. It is Bruce/Tony (yup, in that order). Tony may seem a bit OOC, because emotion isn't his thing, but let's look at that for a second. He's human, he has emotions...he doesn't always **_**like**_** emotions, but he has them. Therefore, Tony **_**NOT**_** responding in a very brokenly human way is OOC, not the other way around. Dedicated to lotus-brody, Radwoman, Madame Masquerade 64, and JustAGirlWithAPen. Enjoy my loves!**

**First part written to "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright. Second part written to "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson. Ohmygod **_**PLEASE **_**listen to these. They just…I can't.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything that you'd recognize.**

This was not their first fight. And it most definitely wouldn't be their last. But he wished it was.

Their 'fights' generally took the road of bickering good naturedly—with hints of seriousness, enough to let the other know that they felt strongly about whatever it was—which they would talk about afterwards to clear the air. They were both crazy about each other, and neither liked the feeling of holding grudges; they had done that enough in life.

But sometimes…

They spat poison at one another, neither meaning what they said, but the need to damage and break and rip would be so strong that it was like looking at yourself from a distance. You watched as you said the thing that would hurt him most, and your other-self took sick pleasure in watching the crumbling that was so entirely unhidden on his face. Your real self, the one watching, begged and pleaded with the rest of you to _stop, stop, don't hurt him anymore!_ Tony wished he knew self-control like Bruce did. It would take hours of relentless cruelty for him to even snap back. He just…he let Tony break him if that's what Tony felt like doing. That was so…he wished he could call it messed up. But how much more fucked up was _he_ for even doing that to Bruce—_sweet, gentle, patient, understanding_ Bruce who knew him so well that he knew what time he'd be up if Fury was visiting the next day. Bruce who cared about him so much that during a particular mission, he'd taken a bullet to make sure it wouldn't touch Tony, even though Tony had his armor on. Bruce wouldn't be killed by it, thanks to Hulk, but he could still _feel_ it for Christ's sake. Bruce had just laughed later and said that it must be a new one of Hulk's reflexes. "The Hulk thinks you walk on water. He's not gonna lose his 'Tiny Tony' to a bullet."

Tony didn't buy that bullshit for a second. He knew how deeply Bruce loved him. They'd been together long enough for him to know with every fiber of his being that Bruce would _do_ anything, _be_ anything, _give_ anything for him. It wasn't Hulk's reflex, though Hulk certainly did have a soft spot for him. No…that was all Bruce.

So why, why,_ whywhywhywhy_ did Tony do this kind of shit? He wished he knew the answer. There was no explanation, no rationalization, no justification that would be a worthy reason for hurting Bruce. But once he started, it was like it just…took him over.

"—yeah, says the guy who thought he couldn't even fuck his girlfriend 'cause if he did, his alter-ego's dick would split her in half!"

"Tony, please just stop, okay? That has nothing to do with anything, and I'd really like to not fight right now. If you need to yell at me later, go ahead, but I have been in the lab for over forty-eight hours and I'm tired and a little upset at the results of my last experiment, and I'd really just like to go to sleep for a bit," Bruce said, rubbing his eyes tiredly and smiling half-heartedly. "And, to be fair, I didn't have control of Hulk like I do now, so that was a valid fear. Not that it matters anymore, since we've both proven that wrong." His smile grew a little, and Tony felt a deep ugliness creep up in him. How could Bruce be so goddamn patient when he was berating him? Why wasn't he leaving?

"That's true. Wonder what Ross's daughter would think if she knew her lover had been fucked by a guy," he mused, falsely nonchalant. He glanced over to Bruce, who's face seemed to crumble, and his heart simultaneously squeezed and hardened.

"I think…Betty would be happy if I was happy." _But I'm not right now_, was unspoken. "And I wouldn't describe what we do as 'fucking'," He said quietly. "Um, I'm gonna go sleep now, so I'll see you in a bit. Unless…you want to get a few hours too?" Ever the forgiving one, he gave a hopeful lopsided smile that tore at the raw edges in Tony's heart. "I've missed your company in the lab. If you want to join me, you can."

Tony lashed out. He'd spent the last two days alone, too proud to seek Bruce out when he'd woken up from a nightmare of Afghanistan alone. Bruce had just been down the hall, getting something from the fridge, but for some reason, Tony hadn't told him when he came back. He'd put up every wall and façade he could, and it had worked. Or he thought it had. Bruce's next words dashed that hope.

"Nightmares suck, so if we slept together for a bit, maybe we wouldn't have any later tonight." The words were thrown to him like a life vest, but he wasn't going to accept them. Bruce couldn't care that much. Couldn't love him despite all the shit he was saying, all the trouble he caused. This was the deepest of insecurities, of fears. That Bruce would leave if he pushed him enough. Everyone else had, right? His parents, Obie, Rhodey, Pepper…he pushed and he pushed and it was_ his_ fault when they left, but…it didn't make the tearing as they walked away any easier.

And if Bruce left, it would be the most jagged tear yet.

So he pushed some more. _So fucked up…_

"Yeah? That'd be great if it would work. Unfortunately, your _oh-so-soothing_ presence doesn't do much to keep the monsters away. In fact, if you think about it…" he trailed off, letting that sentence and its implications—completely _untrue_ implications—hang in the air between them.

He could see it: the moment Bruce lost it. That blow had been so below the belt that Tony wouldn't have been surprised if Bruce Hulked Out now just to make a statement. "Monster…" he could barely hear the soft whisper, and at first he thought Bruce was calling him one. _Wouldn't be inaccurate._ But then Bruce nodded to himself and turned away to walk in the direction of the Green Room. _Oh god…_

"Bruce…"

"Fuck off, Tony."

"But—"

"I said fuck off!" Whirling around, his voice was more than a little bit Hulk's deep rasp. "I—" he faltered, looking wildly at Tony for a minute. "D-Don't come in, okay? I don't want to—just…give me a few hours." With that, he sprinted to the room and the roar of Hulk could be heard before the door slid shut.

Tony stared blankly at where Bruce had disappeared. "I—I'm sorry," he said to no one, because he meant it and he needed to say it, even if he'd say it again later.

_I'm sorry…_

xXx

He felt the right side of the bed sink around one-forty in the morning. The air was saturated with the smell of alcohol and self-loathing. He hadn't drank too much; a few months with Bruce telling stories of his father's alcoholism was enough to keep Tony from ever drinking into oblivion again. Just another thing Bruce gave him that he couldn't return. But he'd still had enough. He felt Bruce crawl in and he didn't know what to think.

He knew what to think when Bruce's arm draped across his side and a face that was still wet with tears pressed against his back. _He stayed…he didn't leave. I don't deserve him. I'm such a bastard; cruel, unfeeling, miserable, stupid—_

"I love you."

Tony let out a strangled half-whimper.

"I wish I could get it through your thick skull that I'm not going anywhere unless you send me. But, I'm not really one to talk. I've only just started to get over the same thing with you. So…let's not send each other away, okay?" Tony felt Bruce's arm tighten around him. "It'll be like a science-bro club pact or something."

Tony laugh-sobbed and turned to face Bruce, though it was too dark to see him. "Seriously, Bruce. You're fucked in the head if you're sticking this out. I'm a stubborn asshole. This is going to happen a lot, probably. I'd rather _not_ put you though all my crap when there are legions of other people you can be happier with." _Leave me but don't leave me…_

"When has anyone ever said I was sane? My alter-ego is a green rage monster. I do experiments on myself for punishment more than I do for actual science. I can't look people in the eye and I almost pass out with overstimulation when I'm in crowds. Where in those things do you find _not_ 'fucked-in-the-head'." He smiled when Tony smiled a little and leaned forward to kiss Bruce. "I _know _you're a stubborn asshole. I think it's part of the reason you stick around despite _my_ crap."

A more comfortable silence settled.

Tony knew that this was unprecedented. They weren't very far in their relationship, and thus far, Tony had been the dominant one in their lovemaking. That's what it was. It was him proving his love because he was awful with expressing it any other way. But right now…he felt like he was going to fall apart if Bruce didn't hold him together. A few months back he had acknowledged to himself that he would do anything for Bruce. He was going to put that into practice now.

"Bruce, can—I want…will you stay with me?" he didn't ask the question he was going for.

"You know I will."

"Then...can you—" He almost growled at his pathetic inability to say this. He could ask crudely, _Bruce, I'd like you to fuck me._ But that wasn't what he wanted to ask for. He wanted the knowledge that Bruce wasn't going anywhere. He wanted that and Bruce's love burned into his mind and his skin because if he didn't, this was going to happen again. And again, and again, and again. He was going to cut this off at the source. He'd been burdened and burdened Bruce enough with this fear of people leaving. It would crop up now and then, he was sure, but he was _not_ going to let this be something that got in their way.

"I need you to love me."

It was said with conviction, and perhaps because of that, Bruce knew what he meant. He felt only a few moments' pause, before Bruce moved in the darkness that was broken only by the arc reactor's blue light. "Okay." Bruce said quietly. "Okay…" Hands came to frame his face and Bruce stroked his thumbs across the high cheekbones under his eyes. His fingers wandered, almost as if memorizing his face in the dark, across his nose that had been broken more times than he could count, and brushed against his jawline. Tony concentrated on the sensation of Bruce's callused hands. He thought he could feel tiny scars from numerous needles and roughing it in other countries, but then Bruce leaned down to kiss him. It was slow, and vaguely hesitant, but Tony felt like Bruce was pouring himself, and all his love, into Tony's mouth with this kiss. His hands came up around Bruce's back and pulled them together, not letting any space separate them.

Bruce's hands slid down to Tony's sides, lightly running up and down, creating goosebumps on Tony's skin when he shivered. Their lips disconnected so that Bruce could move them to his ear. "Thank you." And Tony knew he was thanking him for the trust he was putting in Bruce. To have someone was one thing, but for them to have him was entirely another. For him, trust was not often given. And for Bruce, trust was not often received. But Tony trusted Bruce, and he knew that the gesture couldn't be lost on his lover.

Now he sensed those lips moving down to lave at his neck, tracing veins and his pulse point until it quickened under the ministrations. Bruce crawled to brace himself over Tony; letting his weight rest against him, but not press him down. Their hips began a steady rhythm that was familiar, but so different in this context. Each undulation was altogether new for Tony, because it wasn't about taking or having or a desire to reach the breaking point as soon as possible. Bruce didn't rush, he just let the friction of their bodies speak an old language that was long engraved into humanity.

His mouth was claimed again, tongues gliding, before the physicist smiled and kissed each eyelid and shifted further down Tony's body. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along Tony's chest, his abdomen and hips, to the inner thighs that quivered just a little with the tension and a hint of trepidation. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a moan when Bruce bit very lightly at the underside of his knee, an odd erogenous spot that only Pepper had ever known about, and had very rarely ever paid any attention to. Bruce exhaled shakily against his leg as he moved back up and kissed his hip once more. He looked up at Tony for a moment, not asking permission, because Tony had already given it, and to ask again would embarrass him. He looked just to see the expression that didn't really need words even if it could be described with them. He reached a hand to Tony's face and the taller man leaned into it for a few seconds.

Bruce swiftly leaned down and took Tony into his mouth, almost to the base, reveling in the awaited part-scream-part-moan that Tony couldn't stifle had he wanted to. He didn't have as much control as Bruce had in the club a few months back. His hands threaded into Bruce's hair, the silkiness of the brown curls tickling his palms and he felt a pang of guilt until Bruce hummed and his hips bucked up without permission. Bruce pushed his pelvis back down, relaxing his throat against the gag reflex and taking his lover deeper. Tony was nearly a babbling mess before his hands tightened and weakly tried to pull Bruce away. "Whoa…" he tried to pant out, and Bruce complied, knowing what Tony wanted. He kissed Tony's stomach once more before going back to his neck.

"Where is—"

"Drawer next to the bed," came the immediate answer. He grinned a little, wondering if Tony didn't like hearing explicit wording as much as he liked saying them. Another day, then.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Bruce gently prepare him. Even in this…even when Tony could feel the heat of his lover's arousal pressed against his, even now, Bruce was careful with him, and it burned behind his eyelids.

And then when he was brought to the edge and back twice, nearly keening for release, Bruce slid into him and the feeling of fullness…was this what he had been missing? All those times he bedded another nameless, faceless man or woman, was this was he had been giving up?

He burst into tears.

Bruce froze, thinking he had hurt Tony, and his hand immediately came up to brush at Tony's tears. He was batted away and Tony just shook his head, still crying. "What the hell?" he managed between sobs. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Tony? Tony, what's wrong?" Bruce didn't know what to do. He leaned down to kiss Tony, trying to comfort him, and Tony's mouth drank him in like he had never even known what water was in the first place. Had never known he needed it.

Tony could hear himself saying something, and it wasn't until Bruce kissed him again and said, "I know, I'm sorry too. I love you," that he knew what he'd said. He repeated it once more, and Bruce chuckled, until the movement of his laughter made Tony moan. With another searing kiss, Bruce rocked against him and words were no longer necessary when their love was better expressed with action.

Bruce lay sleeping against him, head on Tony's arm that had long since become numb. Tony traced his features with his eyes and his hands, as Bruce had done. It was like not seeing a hurricane coming straight for you. He felt like an idiot, but he was so, so glad he had seen in in time, at least._ How did I not notice?_

It would happen again, he knew that. Couples fought. Couples with Tony as one of the pair _more _than fought. But next time, the words wouldn't be as poisonous. And the next time, the anger wouldn't be as crippling. And the time after however many tries it took to get this right, maybe their fights wouldn't be focused on wounding, but working something out. And Bruce would stick with him through that process.

He fell asleep with the bitter tang of angry words and the sweet aftertaste of apology, forgiveness, and Bruce's mouth on his tongue.

They'd make it through this.

**Read and Review! -sobs- Why do I do this to you lovely readers? I promise the next one will be happy and wonderful. No more angst for me! Props if you not only spot the references later used in BSaWN, but also to the third chapter of this fic (FPaCN). I need your reviews like the body needs the poly-subprotein known as laminin to stay glued together.**

**To AvengersAreAwesome- Gods PLEASE sign in or send me your email or SOMETHING! Your reviews are always amazing, and I don't like not being able to answer your questions because I have nowhere to send it. xD In response to your question, my headcanon will be revealed in a future chapter. ;) And it includes your second request of team interaction.**


	5. Purple Shirts and Smirking Shenanigans

**Okay, wow! I've been on a trip (thank goodness for medication!) this past week and a half (and for one more week) and let me tell you, Anacortes is among the most beautiful places on earth! I don't understand why more movies aren't filmed here, instead of expensive places like New Zealand. The pictures I've been able to capture, the wild-life and the native culture…so beautiful. I feel like making a Sarah Palin joke…"I can see Canada from my house." So it's not Russia, but **_**still**_**! Let me know if you'd like any details about my trip. I will be posting about my team's trip to the reservation out here on my story "Beating In Time" which is a Pocahontas piece. Anyways, here is the lab smut I promised you! The idea was basically just sexiness, but I can never leave it at just that. This one was a look into the first time Tony tells Bruce he loves him. Bruce has expressed it more than once, but Tony has taken the roundabout course. Now, he's going to state it in no uncertain terms. It's a step in the right direction. I also wanted to use the Purple Shirt Of Sex. This chapter takes place immediately (a continuation) after the second chapter "Simple Gestures". Chapter dedicated to rubydesires, CorpralCarrot, Olor et Luna, and MerJenn. You all are faaaabulous!**

**Written to "Everybody Loves Me" by OneRepublic. Hottest. Song. Ever. It is also Tony's theme song.**

"Shall we play, doctor?"

The smirks were common enough, always lurking to either present amusement or defense, and Bruce loved each and every one of those small quirks of lips that could draw out life in him. Those lips that could have him either as relaxed as he could be despite his usual hyperactive state, or writhing on the brink of decadent mindlessness. They could provide pleasure, they could dole out pain. Either way, the smirks were among his favorites on Tony.

But this might surpass them.

This was more than an expression of amusement. This was a particular tug of the mouth that Tony only ever presented to him. And if he had words for it, he was sure he'd give up being a scientist and just write poetry for the rest of his life.

Wherever Tony had gotten the idea that Bruce might not want to be with him, or would grow bored with him, it was clearly universes away from the real world. The one where he and Tony blew things up in their lab on a daily basis and talked and laughed until their sides ached and they got migraines from lack of sleep, or spent entire days in the bedroom because once, twice, a third or fourth time wasn't enough. Far from it. Any hesitance Bruce might have had in the beginning was being diminished whenever Tony looked at him with _this_ expression, or held him like _that_. Each part of their lovemaking was genuine, wholehearted, not lacking in either tenderness or fervor. Tony had rapidly learned Bruce's love gestures; a brief glance that darted away meant the scientist was contemplating a potential coupling later in the evening, while a pointed stare was like the equivalent of Tony's "Screw the team, screw the world, we're screwing each other." If his hand lingered over Tony's when it was laid on his chest, he wanted affection. If he gripped or clutched at Tony's bicep, he craved things to be rougher, faster.

In all honesty, he had never even noticed the small signals he gave Tony. But Tony sure did.

His hands fisted in the material of Tony's band tee, scooting back onto the lab table and drawing Tony down for fierce kisses that had all the stability of accelerated nuclear ions and all the burning of a pH level of 2.7. Tongues clashed and Tony crawled over him, pushing the ruined experiment that was—thankfully—neutralized to the floor with a broad sweep that immediately made Bruce think of _telenovelas_. Except the real thing was exponentially better and didn't send him into fits of mock-gagging.

Tony braced his hands on either side of Bruce's head and leaned in close, that devious smile never failing to make the scientist's stomach twist in the most agonizing anticipation. This time it was Bruce who initiated the next kiss, dragging Tony down and tugging at the hem of his shirt, slipping hands beneath the fabric to run across overheated skin.

Tony took the hint and leaned up to rid himself of the barrier, before going to work on Bruce's lab coat and—

"Goddammit Banner!"

Bruce blinked. _What?_

"This fucking shirt needs to be fucking _illegal!"_

Tony was staring at his clothed chest, and Bruce felt a shiver run up his spine at the predatory look in Tony's eyes. He was bared to him even _with_ all his clothes on. He realized Tony was still ranting. "—seriously, purple shouldn't even look _good_ on a guy, much less make him the incarnation of sex!"

Through the pleasured haze of arousal, Bruce frowned slightly, wondering what the hell Tony was talking about. "Wait…what?"

"This shirt, Bruce! This goddamn Purple Shirt of Sex! Do you do this on purpose?"

"I—what are you talking abo—" His sentence was cut short when Tony slid his hands up his abdomen and rid him of the shirt. A small moan escaped him when Tony's hands and mouth returned to their previous task of driving him crazy. A few vials crashed to the floor somewhere, and he didn't even feel bad. Quite the opposite.

"Much better. Can't focus with that shirt on you," Tony muttered, and Bruce briefly wondered at his lover's sanity (not for the first time) before Tony whispered, "So fucking sexy, and you don't even know it. I can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Nope, just decided that I hope you never do, or I'm gonna be _so _whipped."

And if there were words more lovingly crafted to do a number on his breathing, he hoped he'd never hear them. _He loves me. He loves me. He thinks I'm attractive and he likes my shirt._ His thoughts were odd and disjointed; Tony had never said those words, but he didn't have time to think before his breathing kicked into double time. Tony lowered back down to settle against him and ground his hips against Bruce's, lips connecting like puzzle pieces locking together. Bruce's cry of need fed the fire of arousal pooling in Tony's gut, his own sound of pleasure answering his lover's.

Tony didn't bother with much foreplay this time; their arousal was a nearly tangible entity—_aside from the obvious_, his mind quipped—and to draw this out would be too much at the moment. Bruce's tight reign over himself was collapsing, but Tony knew that he'd hold onto it until the Mayans were proved right if Tony didn't _encourage _things a little.

All of the lovers he'd had in the past…none of them could remotely compare to this man beneath him. Bruce was more than anyone could ask for, much less the former Merchant of Death. Tony feared the universe would seek to right itself and take Bruce back from him, but at this moment, he had him, and _damn_ if that wasn't enough to make Tony's heart squeeze and his hands shake a little. And maybe lose his mind.

"I—love you."

And then the only sound in the room was the occasional beeping of the monitors and the _ding!_ of an email being received. It looked like both of them had stopped breathing entirely. _Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckgoddammit!_ Tony's mind was strangely blank besides the strings of profanity buzzing around. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He swallowed the words when Bruce raised his hand to grip his hair.

"Mean it."

"I think—"

"Either say it and mean it, or don't say it at all, Tony, or I will not hesitate to leave you here, wound up, and finish this _by myself_ in my room." The words, though they could be construed as a threat, were not a threat at all on Bruce's voice. Just awed and slightly fearful. Tony was reminded of a game kids used to play, picking petals one by one off a withering flower. _He loves me, he loves me not…_

"I love you. So fucking much." He only hoped Bruce didn't run for the hills.

The physicist's immediate smile could have sustained Stark Towers for far more than a year. "You swore." Tony stared at him for a second, before he began to shiver with embarrassing giggles. They expanded to laughing and he leaned down to kiss Bruce.

"I did: that makes it legit." He only purposefully refrained from profanity when he was lying or trying to get something. For a few moments, the kisses were as chaste as anything that was chaste. _So I can't be bothered to think of a good simile, so what?_ Tony thought hazily, before their tongues made the kiss considerably less innocent. Hands wandered across bare skin, neither knowing where they wanted to touch first, mouths fused until Bruce wrapped his legs around the back of Tony's and provided them the friction they'd been seeking. "Fucking—!" Tony gasped, the rest of what he was going to say lost to the air rushing from his lungs.

"Yup." Bruce had a smirk of his own, the light dancing in his eyes and making Tony's entire body thrum with delicious pleasure at his partner's happiness.

Tony chuckled for a moment before he bit at the juncture of Bruce's shoulder and neck, earning a moan that nearly drove him wild. The rest of their clothing was gone seconds afterwards, haphazardly thrown away from them, hopefully not near anything with flames. But if the tower burned down, Tony could boast that his hotness was too much to handle, so it was a win-win either way.

Hips thrust against one another, tenacious hold on control slipped into the void and neither tried to catch it as it vanished. Sheathed and nerves like live wires, Tony thrust into his lover, his mind continuously reminding him that he was with _Bruce, Bruce, always Bruce._ He'd thought falling couldn't get any more enjoyable than it had been a half hour ago when Bruce gave him the promise of 'self-sustaining and glowing' love. He was _very _wrong. Every moan, every twitch of muscle under his hands, every kiss sealed his fate, and he was more than happy to go with it. He was in love with Bruce Banner and the world would fucking _know_ it.

He flipped them, Bruce's eyes squeezed shut and a choked sound ripped from his throat as Tony went deeper underneath him. His hands found purchase against the tabletop, finding their rhythm once more. Glazed eyes sought the other's, seeing walls crumbling and vaults spilling forth their treasures. It was the most unguarded Bruce had ever seen Tony.

"Love—ah—you," Tony said once more, claiming the scientist's lips and undulating to bring Bruce to the edge and swallowing his keen of completion when the words undid him. Tony chased after him one, two, three erratic thrusts later, Bruce's name on his lips and his shoulders just a little less weighed down.

Breath eventually regained, heart rate slowed and eye-lids heavy, Tony smiled.

Tony's post-coital smile was Bruce's favorite of all.

xXx

"So, my purple shirt makes me the incarnation of sex?"

"If I turn around and you have it on, I can't be held responsible for my actions, Bruce." The smirk could be heard in his voice.

"You said we couldn't put off the project S.H.I.E.L.D gave us anymore, right?"

"Probably."

Silence. A sigh.

"I'll go change."

**Read and Review! Dear god…why the hell do I post this? I will have more chapters soon, it's just been ridiculously busy and tiring to cavort all over WA and still have time to write. The people are so wonderful. They greet you and look you in the eye, and that's the bare**_** minimum**_**! Most of them engage in conversation if you pass them. I met a man that literally looks like Thor (long blond hair and sweetest face I've ever seen) two days in and he invited me out to lunch because I sang with his group all day at the local market. One of their vocalists was sick, so I filled in. He gave me his number and he showed me around the San Juan Islands. Found out he's a marine biologist and the band is a troubadour group that he plays in just on market days, but his voice and way of talking…I seriously think Tom Hiddleston gave this guy speaking lessons at some point. Gives me shivers of antici…pation. And then we saw Brave (ohmygod he enjoys Disney!) I've had such a great time! My group will be moving to Seattle in a few days, and he offered to drive us there, since rental cars are expensive. Seriously. I need to stop enjoying his company so much or I'll never leave.**


	6. Propositions and Impromptu Proposals

**Alright! A very, very late update, but I have been gone for three weeks, and have been so tired. I am so very very veryveryvery sorry to all those who reviewed before this chapter, because I have not answered them this round. I have slapped myself for every comment that I will not answer, because my inbox is literally flooded. You are all more AMAZING than Spiderman, more INCREDIBLE than Hulk, and more BADASS than Tony. I'd say more sexy than Loki, but seriously, have you _seen_ the sauna scene yet? I love you all, and I promise to answer this time ****around. This chapter is dedicated to sick sad world,****1337kitsune****, ****Lenna Hatake****, ****Brucy****, and Fujosune-WilloW. You rock!**

**This chapter has been requested constantly. The proposal! :)**

**The first part was written to "Fine by Me" by Andy Grammar. Second part written to "One Thing" by One Direction. Third Part written to "Without You" by David Guetta & Usher. Fourth Part written to "Bubbly" by Colbie Caillat.**

He proposed two and a half times.

The first was the worst proposal in the history of the world. He also had the second place spot, for the half time he tried. The second was awful too, but by no fault of his. Numbers and stats that he wished he didn't remember.

They'd been working in the lab for well over two days, and both were in the bizarre state of mind between awake and asleep, where everything is funnier than it would be if one was slightly more coherent. Tony sometimes likened it to alcohol, without a "shitty hangover in the morning". Tony made some comment about Bride Wars—which, seriously, he'd never watched, _honestly_—and compared it to Pepper's upcoming anniversary. Pepper was with a S.H.I.E.l.D agent, which was still pissing Tony off two months after she told him. "—and how the hell is that any different from being with me? Seriously, 'I need time with you, your job is too dangerous'! And now she's marrying what's-his-face—"

"Hamish," Bruce supplied helpfully, not looking up from his notes.

"_Hamish_, and I'm gonna have to write a whole new program for better background checks, 'cause I swear to God, Bruce, if he even has a parking ticket I'm using that as an excuse to test my new repulsors!"

"Those aren't ready yet, Tony. Think you'll have to wait another week before you hunt him down. Hamish, who makes Steve look like a villain, because he's one of the nicest guys out there and who's job in S.H.I.E.L.D is to bring pets to traumatized victims. Honestly, I don't even know why they call him an agent, but I'm not one to judge." Bruce finally looked up, quirking a brow at his lover, smiling slightly at the mock-horrified expression on Tony's face.

"If he's so great, why don't _you _marry him?"

Bruce outright laughed at that point. "Tony, the man works with fluffy animals. Somehow, I don't think 'danger', 'science', and 'green rage monster' are words he'd ever associate with his future partner. Besides," a goofy smile graced his face and Tony stared for a few moments at Bruce's lips imagining _taste _before focusing again. "How could I stray when that would mean no more_ us_?" He gasped and spun around dramatically in his spinning chair. _I think we're tired,_ Tony mused. "Isn't there some kind of scientific _law _that says something about Tony Stark and Bruce Banner having to be together or the world implodes, or Loki ends up ruling everything and makes a decree that everyone has to grow a moustache and eat copious amounts of pudding?"

Tony burst out laughing at the ridiculous thought, and apparently his sleep-deprived body felt that it was necessary to make him collapse on the ground in a boneless heap of giggles, while Bruce slumped over the desk and laughed until tears streamed from his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with us? We need to go to sleep. Now." Tony tried to convince himself that sleeping was a wise course of action, but when Bruce protested and said he just needed five more minutes to re-learn how to walk, he decided his lover was just too damn perfect to let the moment pass.

"Hey, Bruce. Let's get married."

The laughter died faster than his first goldfish. Bruce stared at him, and Tony grinned, thinking he had just rendered Bruce speechless with happiness. He was very wrong.

"What?" Bruce asked quietly.

Tony rolled his eyes and gestured between them. "You. Me. Matrimony. You must be more tired than I thought."

Bruce just looked at him for a few more seconds before shaking his head. "I think you are, too." Tony frowned, his exhausted mind trying to make sense of that. "Uh, we should sleep, yeah? Come on, let's go to bed."

"Okay," Tony agreed easily, trying to read Bruce's face. Did Bruce not want to marry him? That…sucked, if it was true. And where _were_ these sudden thoughts of matrimony coming from? He'd told himself at the beginning that he'd marry Bruce is that's what he wanted, because he loved him, but since when was _he _so ready to tie the knot?

After they'd climbed into bed, Tony pulled Bruce against his chest and mumbled, "M'serious, you know. I love you, n' you are the best. Don't want anyone else."

He felt Bruce smile, and couldn't tell if it was sleepiness or trepidation in his voice when he replied. "I know that, Tony." Tony fell into uneasy dreams where those words weren't true, and Bruce _didn't _know that.

xXx

It took Tony almost three weeks to recover from the self-loathing that made a grand re-appearance when he woke up and remembered his very, _very_ not awesome way of proposing to Bruce. _Nice, Stark, simultaneously asked him to marry you and insulted him. You have just royally fucked up._

For his part, Bruce didn't seem to be bothered by the failure of a proposal, but there were small signs to the contrary. He was more hesitant to spend long hours in the lab with Tony, though he didn't stay away for long. He flinched minutely every time the word 'ring' came up, and he was talking to Natasha more often. The assassin and the scientist didn't converse often outside of work and meals. There was no dislike or distrust between them, rather the opposite, but if put in a room together, there wasn't much to be said. They were both introverts by nature, and enjoyed the mutual respect for quietness that they didn't get from the rest of the Avengers. Anything that_ was_ spoken aloud was brief, and to the point, and the rest they communicated through their silence. Tony would never understand their bizarre friendship.

But they were talking more often, sometimes even disappearing into the gym or the Green Room, despite the fact that Natasha was wary of that room. Tony wasn't jealous; not at all. He knew Bruce's devotion lay entirely with him—a fact he marveled over and often was the source of a wide smile—and that Natasha and Clint were like two peas in a fucking pod. Literally and figuratively.

So he needed to figure out what was going on, and how he could fix it. Because he knew it was his fault. He knew what caused it. He didn't know how to _fix _it. _And that's something that no inventor—genius or not—ever should have to admit, _he snarked to himself disdainfully.

In the next few days, he came up with a game plan. Clint was helping him out—with no small amount of glee. It was perfect, it was fool-proof (and Hulk proof), and he soon realized he'd forgotten to account for Tony proofing.

"Tony, seriously, we've been walking for almost an hour, and you said you wouldn't let me run into anything."

"I _haven't_," Tony whined.

"My shins tell a different story."

"It's not that much far—"

"You said that twenty minutes ago," Bruce said cheekily, laughing when Tony sighed dramatically. "If you're going for romance, try not to let Clint drug me next time, okay? 'Creeper love is deeper love' does not apply anywhere but the internet."

"Oh god, you're the one teaching Thor how to use Tumblr, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately. I think he picked me because I'm more patient than Jane, but I can only hear the phrase 'Re-blog all the things!' so many times before I need a break in the Green Room. Steve was a much quicker study," Bruce mused with a smile and a shake of his head.

"You should be sainted, Brucey-boy. Or knighted, or something. Speaking of which, we're here."

Tony unknotted the blindfold and smiled when a moment passed and Bruce slowly blew out a soft breath of amazement. "That's…you're crazy, you know that, Tony?" The man in question chuckled at Bruce's indulgent, amused expression.

"'Course. But it'll be fun! A rush!" Tony waggled his eyebrows at the scientist and handed Bruce a parachute. Bruce took it, protesting weakly.

"A rush is the exact opposite of what I should be exposed to. I may have a few things settled with the Other Guy, but somehow I think that 'falling out of a jet' is on the list of things Hulk assumes he should be present for."

"Nah, he knows you're with me, so he'll be chill." Tony was now pushing Bruce to the jet that waited for them in the field.

"Hulk embodies everything that_ isn't_ chill, Tony."

Eventually, after much hassling and puppy eyes on both sides, they were twelve thousand feet above the ground, and about to descend all twelve thousand feet back down with only cloth to break the fall. Bruce knew the physics of it; knew it was usually safe. _Usually _wasn't a word a scientist took lightly. He couldn't die from the fall, thanks to Hulk, but _Tony_…Tony was not something he ever wanted to risk. Especially when he'd refused to bring the suit. But Bruce trusted Tony to know what he was doing, so he'd let it go and was now looking at the extremely far distance between him and the ground. Formulas and calculations were buzzing through his mind about trajectory and gravity and what happens when a penny falls from the Empire State Building, much less from twelve thousand feet. Hulking Out was not a good option today.

"You ready?" The manic gleam of reckless excitement was evident in Tony's eyes and for a moment Bruce idly wondered if the gleam would brighten further were he to sarcastically suggest they have sex on the way down. He snorted helplessly at the mental image and choked back his giddy laughter before nodding and taking Tony's hand. He didn't jump so much as Tony did and dragged Bruce out of the plane with him. The rush and howl of wind stinging against his eyes was one of the most amazing feelings he'd ever felt. He could feel each beat of his heart pounding through the adrenaline, and he immediately wished he could be half-present like Hulk was with him, whenever the Other Guy defied a few laws of gravity. His laughter was swallowed by the air, but Tony's beaming expression told him that his enjoyment showed clearly. They fell for a few minutes before Tony squeezed his hand.

"We'll have to pull our chutes on the count of three!" His lover shouted over the rush of wind. Bruce shouted back his agreement. "One…two…_three!"_ They both tugged the straps, the cloth expanding and becoming fuller as it caught more air. A clang was heard, and Bruce's world was jarred, oddly off balance, only supported by Tony's hand and one strap of the vest. Tony's laughing expression was suddenly abject horror. "Holy shit!"

Bruce didn't panic in the midst of adrenaline. Before the adrenaline hit: _that_ was when he panicked. Right now, his medical trained mind was processing as rapidly as it could. But his expression was calm as he quickly shouted up to Tony. "It's okay, Tony, don't freak out. Keep a hold of my hand for a second; let me think."

The strangled sound that his hearing barely caught was clearly at his choice of the phrasing, but he'd already decided what to do. They were plummeting too fast, even with the parachute, so he smiled up at Tony reassuringly and shook his hand free. He pretended not to hear Tony scream like a girl and focused on the transformation, trying to instruct the Hulk to attempt landing in a deserted field or the water of the lake he could see.

xXx

When he came to, his entire body ached as it always did when he Hulked Out: muscles and bones angrily protesting growing and breaking in unnatural ways. But other than that, he was no worse for wear. He closed his eyes and inhaled ten deep breaths. _Please, please, let no one have gotten hurt._

He looked to the side, and wasn't all too surprised to see Tony there. They always stayed by each other when one was injured. He _was_ surprised at the glass of scotch the man seemed to be contemplating like a long lost lover. His stomach clenched a little, but he reached out to take the glass from Tony. His lover's eyes snapped to his face. There was a tense moment of silence before Bruce frowned and took Tony's hand. "Tony?" He jumped when Tony suddenly exploded to life.

"What the _fuck _was that, Bruce? You fucking _let go_ of my hand!"

"You knew I wasn't in any danger, Tony," Bruce immediately defended, already knowing that his argument was weak, but still valid. There hadn't been time to think. "If anything, it was the terrain and other people who were in worse danger."

"Shut the fuck up right now, Banner! I know that, it doesn't mean that's what I was thinking of when it happened!" With that, he slumped forward in the chair to grip Bruce's hand, the fight going out of him faster than Bruce had ever seen. "Christ, don't ever do stupid shit like that without warning me," he muttered into the sheets. Bruce reached a hand out to comb through Tony's hair, the softness of was soothing against his palm.

"Like you don't do 'stupid shit' without consulting me all the time," he teased, smiling warily. He sighed when Tony laughed a bit weakly and nodded, talking into the sheets.

"Fair 'nough. Let's both just sit in the tower and never go out again so we don't do stupid shit."

Bruce laughed until his eyes started to water. "Tony, we do more stupid shit in the lab than we do anywhere else. I think venturing outside more often might actually be beneficial." Tony turned his head to smirk up at him, before leaning in to kiss Bruce. Their mouths were intimately acquainted with each other, but it seemed that every time Tony didn't kiss Bruce for more than twenty-four hours, his lips forgot the taste and feel and needed to get re-introduced. Not that he had a problem with that.

Tony leaned back to connect their foreheads. "I love you. Marry me."

Bruce groaned, slumping back against the pillows. "Tony," he drew out the end, in not-quite-a-whine, but close enough to display frustration. "Don't." Tony scowled at the rejection.

"Why not? I'm serious! I've proposed three times!"

"When was the second?" Bruce asked, confused. "When I was drugged?"

"No! I was going to on our trip down from the sky, until your chute broke and my heart decided to get cozy with my lower intestines. So, a half proposal. That's two and a half times. I'm serious."

"I know you are, Tony, but—"

Tony stood. "Nuh uh, if you're about to go into a self-deprecating speech, I don't want to hear it." He raised a brow when Bruce smiled softly and shook his head, bemused.

"Thanks for not allowing any self-loathing I might be capable of, but that's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"I was going to say that you're going to have to wait a week."

"…Wait a week to propose?" He hated sounding like an idiot.

"Yes."

Well then.

xXx

A week is a supposedly short time in the scheme of things. Tony wanted to punch whoever decided how long a week went.

He'd had the ring for months, just in case, but it had been a constant, distracting weight in his pocket for a few weeks now. He would go into his pocket for his wallet, and suddenly someone would have to ask him if he was alright. He didn't know if they were concerned by the quickened breathing or his stupidly wide grin.

When he woke up on the day of one week and six hours from when he was instructed to wait, he found the bed empty. Brows furrowed, he pulled the covers off to go search for Bruce when the door opened to the person he wanted to see.

"Morning, Tony! Uh, fair warning, I think the others have just broken into your alcohol collection."

"WHAT?" He leapt out of bed and flew to the door, disappearing down the hall, shouting threats and curses as he went. A devious smirk was replaced with a neutral expression that didn't want to stay put as Bruce trailed behind him at a leisurely pace, counting down.

Three…two…one…and…

"THE FUCK?"

Nodding, he walked out towards the kitchen where the supposed alcohol heist was going on. He came into the room to find Tony struggling against the ropes tying him to a high wheeling chair. Bruce let out a low whistle. _Not even twenty seconds._ God forbid he ever upset Natasha. Even the Hulk wouldn't stand a chance.

"What the hell is going on? Bruce! Get in here, there's been a goddamn security breach!"

Bruce stifled a chuckle and slipped quietly behind Tony. People mistakenly assumed his only skills lay with the Hulk. But when you'd been on the run for a better portion of your life, skills were a must. "Or maybe there's a traitor in our midst," he said dramatically into Tony's ear, laughing when Tony yelled like he was on fire.

"Holy shit! Bruce, what the _hell_?" Tony tried to spin his chair around to see Bruce, but couldn't get it turned. Bruce obliged him.

"Sorry Tony, didn't mean to freak you out. Just didn't want you to have a chance to beat me to the punch, _again_," he said, smiling. He held up a hand when Tony started to ask him questions. "So, now that I have you tied to a chair—which is fair play, since you drugged me, just so you know—I have a proposition and a proposal for you."

Tony eyed him with no small amount of interest that was bordering on his 'Screw the world, I'm going to screw you' look. "M'kay, shoot."

"The proposition is easy enough. I'd be very happy if at six tonight, we go to the congratulations party Steve has so graciously set up for us. Then, afterwards, I think we'd _both_ be very happy if we started that project we talked about last month."

Tony's throat constricted while he tried to swallow. _That project._ Shit, when had Bruce learned how to nearly undo him with his voice? 'That project' involved him, Bruce, and every surface of every room in the entirety of the tower. _I need to stop being such a good influence. _He didn't know if he'd last until the party was over, the way Bruce was talking right now. Speaking of…"What congratulations party?" he asked, clearing his throat.

Bruce smiled, this one heart-achingly soft and decidedly less sultry, but not lacking in intensity. "That's the proposal part." He walked behind the chair to undo the knot and pulled Tony's hands into his. Leading him down a few halls to the Green Room silently, they went in. Bruce pulled his lover to sit with him at the waterfall in the center. The quiet rush of water was the only sound for a few minutes.

"Bruce?"

"Sorry, just thinking. I forget that the longer I wear bravado, the quicker the threads unravel. I'm actually terrified right now." He shook his head at himself, but before Tony could ask what he was talking about, Bruce leaned in to kiss him. "Ought to take a page from your book, then, and jump head first." They kissed again, before Bruce asked quietly, "Marry me?"

xXx

The 'Yes' was probably too prompt and said in a higher-pitched voice than Tony would have liked. Still, he figured it wasn't so bad to lose what remained of his dignity when they exchanged rings that had been bought months ago (neither having had the courage to use them before now) and he looked at his like a freakin' star-struck bride.

Bruce proposing meant more to both of them than they could have explained. If the asking-to-marry was difficult, they were not at all prepared for the big day itself.

Admittedly he thought Bruce's proposal was beautiful…

But he most definitely enjoyed the proposition as well.

**Read and Review! The chapter that would come after this is my other fic, "Bubblegum Saturdays and Whispered Names". On another note, I now have Tumblr! My username is SwOvrTheBifrost. I also have a DeviantArt account by the same name. Look me up, lovelies!**


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